Romancing the Rockies

Shafts of golden light pierce the slowly parting clouds overhead, unveiling the most spectacular sunset my wife, Rita, and I have ever seen. What just a minute earlier was simply a pretty mountain valley transformed into a shimmering crown of silver, amethyst, amber and emerald. Then, just as quickly as this vision in bejewelled chiaroscuro appeared, it's gone. Nature's coy way of welcoming newcomers to the Rocky Mountains, I suppose.

Giddy with anticipation (or is it the altitude?), we've been dreaming of this very moment for years. The larger-than-life picture show zooming past us on the drive to Banff is a stunning sight, especially for a pair of Quebeckers who've never seen anything taller than the stubby, sparse Laurentians. Being in the company of these white-capped stone giants, even if just for the weekend, will take some getting used to.

The rustic feel of our room at the Douglas Fir Resort & Chalets, on a ridge above downtown Banff, helps acclimatize us to life in the heart of the Canadian Rockies. But its stand-out feature awaits us behind the curtains, where a great, solitary mountain -- perfectly framed by wall-to-wall glass -- seems to sit just beyond our spacious balcony. A room with a view, and then some.

A short stroll before calling it a night reveals another perk of being so close to nature: on our way back, we chance upon a small herd of mule deer, happily munching on the adjacent hotel's lawn. Not bad for a first evening.

In the morning, after flinging open the curtains to let in some light -- and reminding ourselves that there really is a mountain outside our window -- we grab breakfast at Coyotes Deli & Grill. The menu features Southwest-style fixings such as huevos rancheros and chorizo sausage frittata. We opt for honey-baked granola with yogurt and fresh fruit and a plate of thick slices of French toast, stuffed with cream cheese and berries. It's an auspicious beginning: so far, so tasty. Granted, most people probably won't travel to Banff just to eat a terrific breakfast, but we Italians will follow our stomachs anywhere, hence all the famous explorers.

While chatting over glasses of just-extracted carrot-apple juice, we notice that, apart from the staff, we seem to be the only Canadians in the place. The voices at the tables around us are a mix of Southern U.S. drawls, British lilts, and a cacophony of German, Japanese and some Eastern European tongue -- "Estonian or maybe Bulgarian," offers our waitress. It's hard to keep track when over 3.5 million visitors from every corner of the globe pass through this town of barely 8,000 residents, many of them seasonal workers.

We make our way up Banff Avenue and across the Bow River bridge toward the Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel, where we've booked a couples' massage: the one-hour "Hip Honeymooners Treatment" at its posh Willow Stream Spa.

The 120-year-old, Scottish baronial-style hotel, known locally as "the castle," is as stunning as anything you'd find in the Highlands, and worth snooping around to get a taste of architectural opulence from a bygone era. We feel wistful for the early days when a room here went for less than $4 a night. Following a quick spa tour, Rita and I rendezvous in one of the dimmed massage rooms, where we are greeted by the burly pair of masseurs who will perform our side-by-side, rose-themed romantic treatment.

A dry brush exfoliation gets things started. Basically, it's a perfectly pressured body scrub with old-fashioned shower brushes -- just forceful enough not to trigger tickles, but well below the pain point. Then we're slathered in rosehip oil and kneaded all over, inducing sensations (and smells) that send me into a cocoon of serenity. By the time we get to the warm body wrap and, especially, the hot-towel face wrap, we would gladly have stayed another hour.

Feeling melted and rubber-legged, we poke around the hotel's swanky shops, then head back into town, where we judge the credit-card damage will be less severe. Pounding Banff Avenue's pavement for an hour or so, we load up on gifts and souvenirs at the Rocky Mountain Soap Company, Smashing Cosmetica, Mountain Chocolates and other local boutiques. Spent, in both senses of the word, we take a break at the Wild Flour Bakery on Bear Street, sharing an inexpensive organic vegetarian lunch. We cap off the afternoon with a half-hour stroll on the trail winding along the Bow River towards the Bow Falls; not Niagara, but still a splendid sight in the warm sunshine.

Later that evening, when our stomachs start rumbling, we return to town to the Bison Mountain Bistro, where both the restaurant and its lounge area are hopping with people. This eatery's trademark is "Rocky Mountain comfort food" for the 21st century: local, organic, sustainable and delicious. The two-storey establishment, which includes the Bison General Store, a gourmet food shop and deli counter on the ground floor, is the brainchild of owners Ryan and Camilla Rivard.

The menu caters to carnivores -- this is cowboy country, after all -- but chef Grant Parry's inspired preparations give we two foodies a whole new appreciation for mere meat and potatoes: our sublime meals of triple-A Alberta beef striploin and crispy-skinned roast chicken breast are happily devoured.

However, the pièce de résistance is dessert. In spite of our full bellies, we can't resist sharing a Lavender S'more, an airy mound of flourless chocolate cake crowned with a gooey homemade lavender marshmallow, drizzled in Alberta honey and skewered with a sliver of graham tuile. One bite in, we realize that sharing won't suffice and promptly ask for some more, please.

Eager for a little mountaineering the following morning, we make our way up Sulphur Mountain's 2281-metre slope -- albeit by means of an eight-minute gondola ride (real climbers can opt for the two-hour hike up instead). The Plexiglas-encased cable car provides panoramic views of Bow Valley on the way up that make it worth every penny of the $26 admission.

At the top, we squeeze in a bit of exercise, trekking the one-kilometre wooden boardwalk spanning the mountain's ridge to an old weather station on Sanson's Peak. It's named after Norman Sanson, who hiked up to the summit every week for 30 years to record the weather. As exhausting as the climb might have been, I'll bet he never tired of the view: 360 degrees of snowcapped mountains zigzagging along the crystalline blue sky.

Before returning to Banff, we stop by the nearby Upper Hot Springs to enjoy more earthly pleasures. Originally heralded as a cure-all for any ailment imaginable (they used to drink the stuff back in the day), the always 40-degree water does help relieve sore muscles, while the high mineral content is alleged to alleviate the symptoms of arthritis and rheumatism. Whatever the benefits, Rita and I are happy to simply float in this giant outdoor bathtub, on a ledge with a terrific view of distant mountains through the tops of the surrounding pine trees.

Stewed and pruney, we wile away the rest of the afternoon in town at Evelyn's Café. Mulling over our dinner options, one of the other patrons suggests we check out the Banff Centre's swanky restaurant, one of the town's best-kept secrets, she assures us. Intrigued, and with no other plans, we think: why not enjoy a culinary performance?

The Banff Centre is a sprawling complex of buildings on the opposite side of Tunnel Mountain from our hotel, just outside downtown Banff. Recognized worldwide as a leading public supporter of art and culture, it is part educational institution and part performance venue, with a lucrative sideline as Banff's main conference site.

This year, the centre celebrates its 75th anniversary and is pulling out all the stops for its Banff Summer Arts Festival, which runs from May to early September. Feature acts include a production by Red Sky Performance, a troupe of North American Aboriginal and Mongolian dancers who will travel from Banff directly to the Beijing Olympics, and a new collaboration between the Alberta Ballet and famed Albertan songstress Joni Mitchell.

Even without a show to catch, a visit to the centre's Three Ravens Restaurant and Wine Bar is worthwhile. Despite the slightly out-of-the-way location (don't be afraid to ask a local for directions), we're treated to one of the most amazing table-side views of Banff -- the town and nearby mountains seem within arm's reach -- afforded by the impressive space's high all-glass walls.

Our dinner proves as artfully orchestrated as any of the centre's spectacles. We start with a soup of velvety roasted sweet corn with kaffir lime leaf essence and basil cream, topped with a trio of Dungeness crab fritters that pack an ocean of flavour. As an entrée, I choose the melt-in-your-mouth Alberta bison tenderloin served in a Madeira reduction with purple-and-sweet-potato white cheddar gratin. Rita goes for the seafood pasta, with thick ribbons of pappardelle, shrimp, clams and mussels in an aromatic basil, garlic and saffron broth.

Both of us insist on the Study of Chocolate dessert -- because, really, who wouldn't want to study chocolate? Our education comes in three equally exquisite parts: a mini chocolate lava cake with mango mint sauce, a white-chocolate-and-goat-cheese tower with strawberry port and pink pepper coulis, and a semi-frozen milk chocolate pyramid with sweet basil tuile. Mix and match between the three, but try to savour each bite slowly: allow the flavours to meld on your palate as the dessert melts in your mouth.

We linger over coffee to watch the sun set over the mountains one last time, bathing the valley, and our memory of this postcard moment, in a warm, rose-coloured glow.

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